I am a dreamer whose dream is to find, capture, and share with others the magic of life in writing, painting, and poetry. I may be unconventional and mischievous at times, but my work is guided by love built upon a foundation of kindness, divine beauty that only the inner eye would see, and feelings that can only be measured by the depth of an ocean. My birthplace, Sadec, instills in me Strength, Faith, Hope, Love, and Healing power to go through life and to nurture my soul. Sadec defines me.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Gold, Love, and Power Struggles: The Caper PART 3

For over forty years I've accustomed myself to American way of
being open, rational, and straightforward. But, in Vietnamese culture, it's not
flattering for one to be forthright. So to be tasteful, we often imply. The Vietnamese implication
is not about beating around the bush. It is intended to make the subject listener feel and act in certain way. Impacting
the psyche of the listener is the point. Not only the Vietnamese don't directly
say what we mean, we often don't even make our intention known. It's a cultural trait. And that
is not only in speaking manner, it's also in our way of thinking, behaving, strategizing,
and living our lives. If I could draw the way the Vietnamese rationalize, it
would look like a maze, not according to any law of logic, or any rule of
commonsense. That pattern of thinking has led us to our way of social interactions and formation of various segments in the community. Back to my hometown Sadec,
since 1975, the socialist local authorities have had a tremendous power over
the lives of the locals. Yet the authorities also know that there is another
force they have to reckon with: The native belief in the power of the Village
Deity and of the elders. As we Vietnamese would say, “Phép vua thua lệ làng,” or "facing the
village's customs, the king's rules must leave in a lurch." Then there is
a powerful religious group, the pro-government Buddhist Association, which comprises about one-half of Buddhist Temples that
have gained supports and recognition from
the local authorities. Explicitly,
these groups don't fight each other for territorial controls. Implicitly, they try to exert power over each other and the locals. The village people get used to dealing
with these implicit power struggles. Even when it's unbearable, we Vietnamese know how to "cố đấm ăn xôi," or "take the punches to earn the sweet rice reward."

With
respect to my story, "The Caper," after I came to America in 1975, I never
mentioned to others of my mother and the deep, binding love I had for her as
well as her influence upon my life. Quietly and faithfully, I sent her support money
on a regular basis. After her death in 2000, I let my Buddhist nun sister Nhu
Chieu sell the house and land that Mother had willed to me. My sister bought .999
pure gold bars with the proceeds. Then I continued to send her money. For each
$100 I sent and unused she purchased a .999 pure gold ring until she collected
hundreds of gold rings. I am a fool for love, I knew they never needed that
much money but I wanted to pamper them.

In
2006, my Buddhist nun sister Nhu Chieu died of a sudden heart attack and left
two bags of gold. A dozen of powerful figures in the community, including Buddhist nuns,
relatives, and law enforcement witnessed the gold and did an inventory of
it. They called to my home in America and needed my decision on how to distribute the gold. They spoke as if they recognized I was the rightful heir to the gold but implicitly, I should not or could not
claim the gold for myself. I knew immediately, each one at the scene of my
sister's death implied that the gold should go to them. Off the top of my head, I suggested
a gold custodian, my cousin Thanh My, living in downtown Sadec near the police
headquarters, although I had no contact with her for over forty years. I knew for sure
the people and groups present at the temple where sister died would keep an eye on the gold until, as they suggested, I returned
to Sadec to officially gift it to them. No one, no group, not even my cousin,
would dare to touch the gold. In Sadec we say, "Đi với bụt mặc áo cà sa, đi với ma mặc áo
giấy." Literally, it means "going with a monk, wear a saffron robe,
going with a ghost, wear a paper outfit." Or as we say in America, "Pay a man
back in the same coin." No one knew that I selected my cousin because she was a mother of
three who would unlikely skip town with the gold while I was exploring my
options.

I knew without any doubt that the moment I claimed my right
to the gold or hired an attorney to fight for it through the legal system, the
gold would mysteriously disappear within seconds. However, if I returned and
distributed the gold as I promised the people there, I could endanger my life as I would not please everyone. Worse, I would
subject myself to unwanted pressure and forces. I could jeopardize my safety as
the local authorities could arrest me without a cause. Once, my
brother in law, a Vietnamese American, was arrested and thrown in jail because he took a video
of a government building near Sadec even from street. My third option was walking away. And I
knew that was their intention for me to do. The fact that the gold was intact
in my cousin's safe for weeks until I returned indicated that the risk of any
attempt to take or tamper with it was extremely high.

Walking away was never my intention. So "The Caper"
operation took place. That wasn't for the value of the gold as I later gave the gold money away to charities. I had to do that for my self-respect. No one should
underestimate the intensity of my love and the fire in my determination when it
comes to matters of the heart. The gold was a loving gift I gave my mother and sister and no one else.

With that, I dedicate this piece to my late mother and my late Buddhist
nun sister Nhu Chieu. Their spirits were with me throughout my adventure. The force of my love for them
made The Caper a successful experience.

Sadec In My Heart

About Me

I left Sadec at 15 but my heart is still filled with emotion and desires for beauty in nature, life, and people in Sadec. I love the Sadec rivers where fishermen threw their nets against the rising sun while floating water hyacinth and their delicate lavender flowers hosted the dragonfly guests with angelic wings. I love the paddy fields surrounded the village where the rice paddies’ glassy waters reflected the blue sky and intense green foliage as mirrors, partially framed by patches of rice stalks and muddy paths as I would inhale the pungent aroma of mango, longan, dorian, and mulberry blossoms. I love my back yard in Sadec where the creek water allowed me to visualize the colorful small fish seemingly swimming side by side with the reflected birds, while the trees touching the clouds. I still love the tingling sensation of bathing in the rain and the fulfilling taste of a handful of rainwater falling from a palm-leafed roof, or the bright, full moon that caressed my face with its silvery moonlight. These are some of the things I love about Sadec as I journey back. K. N. Roberts